


Dinner & a Movie

by ghoulette13



Series: Boys' Night Universe [4]
Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Feelings, Grief/Mourning, Humor, Internalized Biphobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Oral Sex, Slut Shaming, i guess?, talks of CharMacDen, talks of MacDennis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 14:13:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18801952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoulette13/pseuds/ghoulette13
Summary: Mac and Charlie go on a date and talk shame, sex, Boys' Night, and Dennis. This takes place while Dennis is in North Dakota.-------------'So what does it all mean?' Charlie asked himself. What did it mean now that he and Mac were having sex?After all the therapy he guilted Frank into paying for, Charlie started to find a way to re-create meaning in his own life. And that meant making choices. He had to choose these new meanings. He had to choose which feelings to attach to which words.





	Dinner & a Movie

**Author's Note:**

> AN AU WHERE…. Charlie never bangs the waitress, he heals his childhood trauma, and he spent several years watching Mac and Dennis play ‘sex games’ in a secret event they all called "Boys’ Night." It's a very CharMacDen story. This will make the most sense if you read the first story in the series. 
> 
>  
> 
> ((FYI: This story includes an extremely brief mention of past suicide ideation--but the comment ends on a positive note))

_**While Dennis was in North Dakota...** _

_So what does it all mean?_ Charlie asked himself. What did it mean now that he and Mac were having sex?

After all the therapy he guilted Frank into paying for, Charlie started to find a way to re-create meaning in his own life. And that meant making choices. He had to choose these new meanings. He had to choose which feelings to attach to which words.

Old Charlie had been averse to sex. He attached words like ‘stress’ and ‘fear’ and ‘emptiness.’ With women, he saw it as a required game of 1 VS 1 and he would play out his part as a means to an end. There was only one woman he had ever had feelings for, and sex had never been possible with her. When he was with Mac and Dennis, though, it became something different. All those associations got replaced with feelings he didn't have the words for. He kept a physical distance from the two other men, but his heart wanted nothing more than to be a part of what they had.

New Charlie liked sex. He attached words like ‘release’ and ‘freedom’ and ‘sport.’ He had found a way to make it fun, especially since it was with Mac. Or _specifically_ because it was with Mac. They had found a way for him to be in his own body and enjoy it, not to roar in the pain of existing in material form. His old fear of touch was replaced with a fervent need for it.

Well, as long as it involved Mac.

But if they were moving forward with this, if they were really going to add sex to their friendship, they had a long history to, at the very least, acknowledge. Charlie had learned that if you left something unspoken for too long, it would be like it never happened, only all the side effects would _blare_ in your face. And he wanted those nights to be real. He wanted all of those nights to have happened. Sure, they hadn't gone about it in the healthiest way, but there had been a mutual respect among the three of them. It wasn't long after starting that they even had their own rules and regulations.

The Hard (Spoken) Rules of Boys’ Night 

  1. What happens at Boys’ Night stays at Boys’ Night.
  2. Everybody has to _want_ to play. Otherwise, it’s not fun.
  3. Everybody finishes. (Though was it really a _hard_ rule if it wasn't enforced on the bystander, Charlie?)



Addendum: Three timeouts per game. (Mac and Dennis had started abusing the time-out system so much that Charlie had to give them a limit to strive for. _But_ if more timeouts were necessary, it was going to be allowed.)

The Soft (Unspoken) Rules of Boys’ Night 

  1. No videotaping (an implied extension of Hard Rule Number 1 directed at Dennis, of course).
  2. An offer is always extended to Charlie, but he’s never pressured to participate (an implied extension of Hard Rule Number 2).
  3. This sex doesn't count.



That last one had been lingering in his head. This Boys’ Night thing was just a private little event they did. It was just meaningless fun. It was just a way to work the muscles and blow off steam. At least that’s how Dennis and Mac had put it to him. He knew there was more to it, but he couldn't spell it out at the time. Not with the rest of his own issues weighing him down. 

He just wasn't sure how Mac had felt about all that and it was eating him up inside. And tonight was the night. It had to happen. He had to talk about it and get it all out in the open before he snapped.

He walked out of Mac’s bedroom, freshly showered and dressed in his best outfit. Well, with a few alterations. If he was going to get Mac talking, he had to give him the right moves. He wore a black button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He left a few of the buttons undone at the top. He wore his nicest jeans and even slipped on his dress shoes.

“Dude!” Mac shouted and stood up from the couch. “You look hot as shit!”

Charlie spun in place before bowing. “Why thank you, Mac.”

Mac walked closer, biting his lip. He wore his usual get-up: polo and a tie, though his arms were starting to threaten the durability of the seams. “I’m gonna fuck the shit outta you tonight.”

Charlie laughed. “Keep it in your pants, dude.” He put his hands in his pockets. “We gotta have dinner first. I've got it all planned out.”

Mac chuckled and then paused, brows furrowing. “Are you wearing cologne?”

Charlie grinned and nodded. “It’s Versace.” Artemis was working at a fragrance kiosk at the mall and had helped him pick it out. She was also selling some hydroponic dank on the side, too. With Frank's money, he was _much obliged_ to make the purchase.

“Nice,” Mac smiled and tucked his lips between his teeth. Their colognes co-mingled and clouded the space around them. He and Charlie watched each other for a moment. “We better go before I bang you right here.”

Charlie laughed. “Alright, alright. Let’s go.” He handed Mac his wallet. “You left this on your dresser.” Mac mumbled out a thanks and pocketed it before they locked up and left the apartment.

\---

They had both been banned from Uber and Lyft after a few ‘miscommunications’, so they walked to Guigino’s instead. The sidewalks were crowded, but it felt like a distant static. Everyone had their own business to attend to and Mac and Charlie were just another pair of faces. Charlie kept his eyes up, feeling the blisters already forming on his feet. _Stupid dress shoes._ He saw an older woman pause and glance at them, a glitter in her eye and a smile on the edge of her mouth. _Looking at Mac, huh?_ He thought and brought a possessive arm around the other man’s waist.

Mac flinched and stuttered a moment, before grabbing Charlie’s hand and steadying it on his hip as they walked.

“You okay, man?” Charlie asked, a little uncertain by his attempt at touch.

“Sorry, dude,” Mac shook his head and smiled. “I still get weird with other guys sometimes.”

“Really?” Charlie moved his hand from Mac’s hip to his upper back. “You’ve been out for a little while.”

“Yeah, it’s not bad or anything.” Mac wanted to shrug it off, but he knew Charlie wouldn’t let him. “In my head it’s like… my brain just goes back to that memory of feeling like shit for being gay. But then I just remind myself that it’s okay. I’m good, now.” Some days, of course, were easier than others.

Charlie wasn’t convinced. “Dude, you looked like you just touched a hot stove or something.” He didn’t mean to burn him.

Mac squeezed his brows together. “I guess it kind of _is_ like touching a hot stove.” He ended the sentence with an upward inflection, trying to translate the feeling into something more tangible. They stopped at the crosswalk, waiting for the signal to change. “But the hot stove is in my head and touching it was, like, how I punished myself for being gay. And I spent so many years with my hand on the hot stove that I still do it sometimes by accident.”

Charlie pondered a moment. The light changed and they began to cross. “So, if it hurt, then why were you always touching the stove?”

“Because, dude! Everyone around me was telling me to!” Mac shouted. Sure, maybe the gang had been open to him (besides Frank), but they weren’t the only influences in his life. “When people were teaching me that ‘the gays’ were going to hell, it’s like they were telling me to feel like shit about myself. They were telling me to feel guilty and to put my hand on the stove as punishment.” There was a whole lifetime buried under his simplification, but Charlie knew that. He had watched it all happen for years. Some of that pain was inside of himself, too.

“Shit, dude.”

“Yeah it sucked,” Mac finally got the shrug out of his system. “But it’s not like that anymore. _Sometimes_ it still feels like a hot stove, yeah. But sometimes it just feels like a bug on my arm or whatever.”

Charlie didn’t respond, just walked in thought. He didn’t quite understand Mac’s explanation, but he was comforted by the other man’s resolve. Mac’s expression returned to where it had been before, an easy smile. And his gait had grown easy again, too. It gave him a little more hope for the night’s conversation. Mac had been making distance between himself and his past, just like Charlie was trying to do.

\---

As they made it to Guigino’s, Charlie stopped in a panic. “Shit, I gave you _your_ wallet but I forgot _mine_ back at your place.”

Mac shrugged. “No worries, dude. I can pay.”

Charlie relaxed. He entered the busy restaurant after Mac held the door for him. Fortunately, he had made reservations and they were seated quickly. After skimming the wine menu, he chose the only one he trusted himself to pronounce. Mac hadn't offered to help like he usually did. Not after Charlie had torn into him a few days previous. ‘ _Please, stop treating me like I'm a kid! I can figure it out!’_ He could find ways to make up for the words he couldn't parse. He didn't need Mac to swoop in and save him.

The waitress returned with his request and poured them a glass of red wine each. She set the bottle on the table and smiled politely. “I’ll be back in a few moments to take your order.”

Mac barely waited for her to get out of earshot before speaking to Charlie. “Shit, dude. I think I banged our waitress.” He turned to look at her again. “Yeah, I think she was the last one I tried to get it up for.” So, technically more of an _attempt_ at banging.

“Wait,” Charlie wracked his brain. “Dusty?”

“No. A different chick after her.”

“Are you kidding me? You tried again after _her_?” Charlie guffawed. “She was hot! She looked like a model!”

“Yeah, she was a 10, but I had to try a 6 just to make sure.”

Charlie laughed. “Make sure what? That maybe you just weren't attracted to _hot_ chicks?”

“Well, yeah.” Mac shrugged. “I thought maybe I was just too intimidated to get it up for them or whatever.”

Charlie nodded. “Okay, yeah, I can see that.” He sipped his wine. “Do you think she recognized you?”

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Mac raised his chest. “I've got a lot more mass on me than I used to.”

Charlie agreed. Mac had changed a lot over the last couple years, but not just his body. Now that he was out, too, there was a tension missing from his face, only remnants of it visible in faint lines and wrinkles beginning to form in his skin. Old photos didn't do justice to who he was now. Confident, secure, handsome beyond belief. Charlie kinda wished he didn't dye his hair, though. He liked seeing the grays coming in. ...But he couldn't say much considering he started dying his own, too. And then they both had to keep up with it so they didn't get that funny look when the roots would grow in--made them feel too much like Frank.

“This wine is good,’ Mac said passively. He was scanning the restaurant and fiddling with his menu.

“Yeah, don’t tell Frank we had red, though,” Charlie raised his palm up. “He’s been all pissy since he paid for my teeth.” Dental implants. Just a few molars. “Says they cost too much for me to stain ‘em.”

Mac refocused his gaze on Charlie. Said his name with a little bite to it.

Charlie rolled his eyes. “Look, I’ll brush ‘em as soon as we get back, okay?”

Mac raised a brow.

“We’ll get a white wine, next, okay?” Charlie could just ask for a recommendation, no point in deciphering the list again. “White wine cancels out red wine!” He raised his eyebrows and stared intently at Mac, hoping to get his point across.

Mac wasn't entirely convinced, but he vaguely remembered hearing that logic before. “I’ll allow it.” He glanced around the room again, seeking some action and hi-jinks that usually occurred in a crowded restaurant. Instead, he saw a familiar face he wanted to avoid. “Oh shit!” Mac ducked down, hiding behind his menu.

Charlie ducked down, too. “What’s up, dude? What’s going on?”

Mac peeked one eye over the top of his menu. “I banged that busboy over there and never called him back.”

“Busboy?” Charlie seized the opportunity and put on a disgusted face. “You banged a _boy_?”

“Gross, dude! I’m not Dennis, _may he rest in pieces!_ ” Mac shouted through a whisper. “This dude is like thirty-something.”

“Where is he?” Charlie stuck his neck out, scanning the crowd of waiters and patrons. _This guy better be hot._

“Over there at that table with the red lady,” Mac pointed.

Charlie turned, and a couple rows over he saw a woman in a bright red dress and a busser with tanned skin, bushy eyebrows, and sparkling blue eyes. He nodded. “Nice, dude.”

“I know, right?” Mac grinned. “He totally wanted to hook up again, too, but I kinda already got what I wanted from him, so--”

Charlie chuckled. “Dude, you’re such a slut.”

“What _?_ ” Mac squinted. “Are you just saying that ‘cause I banged our waitress, too?”

“ _Yes!_ ” Charlie laughed.

Mac just shrugged and waited for the busboy to leave his line of sight. “Whatever, bro, _you_ used to bang chicks.”

Charlie rolled his eyes. “Dude, that’s not even--” He stopped his train of thought. He was less bothered by Mac's misunderstanding and more bothered by _that fact_ being thrown into his face. “I was just using those chicks to get everyone off my back, anyway.” He continued to scan the menu. “You guys were annoying as shit.”

“Yeah, because _you_ were annoying as shit. We wanted you to forget about _the Waitress_.”

“By banging other chicks?” Charlie asked flatly.

“Yeah, dude!” Mac gave him an incredulous look, picked up his wine glass, and took a sip.

Charlie couldn't believe it. Did his own best friend not even understand who the Waitress had been to him? She was irreplaceable. _Fuck this guy._ “Did banging chicks ever make you forget about _Dennis, may he rest in pieces_?”

Mac stopped and glared at Charlie. “No, but that’s different.” He raised his chin a bit, eyeing the man across from him. “And _you_ actually find women _attractive_.”

“Yeah,” Charlie raised one eyebrow. “But banging ‘em wasn't going to get me to lay off the Waitress.”

Mac pulled his shoulders up, glass moving toward his lips. “Ehhh, I think it helped.”

“What? That shit didn't help.” Charlie leaned back in his chair and put his menu on the table. “Watching you and Dennis helped.”

Mac choked on his wine.

“Yeah, we haven’t talked about _that_ one, now have we?” Charlie had trapped Mac into staying seated at the table. As far as Mac knew, he was without a wallet. _And_ beverages had already been consumed. _And_ they were out in public. _No_ **_fucking_ ** _your way out of this one, asshole._ But he still needed something to keep the other man reeled in, something to ease the discomfort he saw building in Mac’s frame. Charlie smiled and sipped his wine. “That first night I caught you and Dennis blew my mind, dude.” He watched the other man perk in his seat, curiosity shown in his face. “When I saw you guys kissing, I thought, ‘Holy shit, we can _do_ that?’ Like, yeah, me and Den got the hint from the Project Badass tapes--” Charlie continued before Mac could ask for clarification. “--but like, I didn't know we were gonna act on it. I didn't realize that it was even an option. I had thought we all chose to be with women and moved on.” He slapped his hands together. “Case closed.” Heat filled Charlie’s cheeks, but Mac held an open expression on his face. “And when you guys just stared at me and kept kissing?” Charlie groaned. “That was the hottest shit in the world.”

Mac relaxed back into his chair. “Dude, I was so terrified.” He laughed. “I had no idea what to do and Dennis, _may he rest in pieces_ , just kept going and then I kept going and then none of us stopped it!” He held both his palms out, underneath the table. His face was red, but he was smiling.

“Dude, _I_ was so terrified.” Charlie grinned. It felt easy, somehow, with Mac. Being open and just letting all the words come out. They weren't even high this time. Like they didn't need the help anymore. “I just wanted to do whatever you guys were doing. And it freaked me out that you guys were letting me in on this _thing_ , but then we never really _talked_ about it!” The few conversations that Charlie did have with them were full of terse, aggressive sentences. There had been a constant struggle of figuring out what could be spoken of and when and how. Their first rule was always floundering them. _What happens at Boys’ Night stays at Boys’ Night._

“I know, man.” Mac groaned. “God, it’s been the fucking worst just sitting with this shit.”

“Right?” Charlie laughed.

“And then we started fighting like goddamn rats.” Waves of relief vibrated from Mac’s body just by saying all this shit out loud. “Like, I started really losing my mind toward the end there.”

“Fucking rats in a cage, man.” Charlie stared off. He got lost for a moment in his mind’s image of rats fucking in a cage with Rat-Charlie on the sidelines wearing a black-and-white striped shirt. He was running back and forth blowing his whistle and shouting in a little rat voice.   “And then you guys would make _me_ the _umpire!_ ” His focus quickly returned to the restaurant. He tried to sound pissed off, but there wasn't much heat behind his words. That role had definitely been necessary some nights.

“We had no fucking control of ourselves!” Mac shook his head in disbelief. “I’m glad we stopped!”

“Dude, we had to.” Charlie’s eyes grew wide. “We got all out of whack and we were making each other so miserable.” It became too difficult to separate their daily life from their private life. Boys’ Night only worked if they were all getting along.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mac muttered. “And second rule and all.” _Everybody has to_ **_want_ ** _to play. Otherwise, it’s not fun._

Charlie sighed. “Frank _totally_ knew something was up.” His face twisted and he paused to take a breath. “I mean, he always wanted to know what we did on ‘Boys’ Night’, always poking around trying to get something out of me.”

“Shit, dude. Dee wouldn't leave me the fuck alone about it.” Mac grimaced. _‘Boys’ Night, eh? Sounds pretty gay. You boners all bonin’ each other?’ She wagged her head, thinking herself so funny for mocking them, and when they didn't immediately respond, her face dropped. She gagged. ‘Oh God, never answer that!’_ So, technically she had only asked him once, but her voice had echoed out in his head. And the look on her face had stuck with him, too.

“Dude, did you just touch the hot stove?”

“Oh shit, I think I did.” Mac pulled his shoulders back. “I think I hot-stoved it.” He conjured up that image of Dee in his mind and cringed, again. “Yep. Affirmative. My hand was on the stove.” His eyes grew wide at Charlie. “Dude, I think you did it, too, when you talked about Frank.”

“Oh shit, let me try.” He closed his eyes and pictured Frank’s face, cheeks pulled up, eyebrows joined together. Frank’s mouth said _‘Boy’s Night’_ with a small twitching snarl. He felt his shoulders tense and his chest emptied, as if Frank’s expression drained something out of him. “Did I do it?”

Mac laughed. “It looked like you did. You got all tense and shit.”

Charlie stared straight ahead and a smileless laugh fell from his mouth. “That explains a lot of shit, dude.” ‘Shame’ was the word to attach to that feeling. It wasn't just this _thing_ they had had together. It was all the other bullshit of life at the time, too. The professional. The personal. The interpersonal. The burying of it all. The layers of pain and confusion and anxiety had tangled together so haphazardly that when it fell apart, it was hard to pinpoint the catalyst. Charlie put his face in his hands. All that tension needed to stay behind him. Tonight was about the future and about the new choices he wanted to make. “I want something better, man. I don’t wanna keep repeating the same shit over and over.” He wiped downward on his cheeks before looking up to Mac. “I never wanna go back to where we were.”

Mac took in a deep breath and just stared at Charlie. “Dude, me neither. Never again.”

“ _Never_ again,” Charlie found a way to steady his own breathing. He felt this gigantic burst of energy surging in his gut. He wanted to run around the restaurant screaming he felt so fucking free.

Mac smiled and shook his head at the man across from him. “God, I feel amazing.”

“Me too, dude,” Charlie chuckled. “Me fucking too.”

The waitress approached the table with her notebook in hand but Charlie interrupted her before she could speak.

“Oh my God, can you not see that we are having a moment?” He shook his head. _Maybe this **wasn't**  the best place for this. _ “The service here has really gone down lately,” he mumbled to Mac.

“I know, right?”

“Look, miss,” Charlie tried to sound as smug and ‘upclass’ as possible, anything to speed up this interaction so they could get back to where they were. “We’re going to be kind of _at this_ all night. So, I’ll get the spaghetti and he’ll have the fish of the day. And a bottle of your house white wine.” He shooed her off. “Please leave, now.”

The waitress smiled, grabbed their menus, and left. _Bastards like this make me hate my life._

Mac poured himself a little more wine. “Hey, remember ‘erotic sexual denial’?”

Charlie squeezed his brows together. “Which one was that?”

“You know, where Dennis would get tied to the chair--oh wait!” Mac threw his eyebrows up. “You weren't there for that one!” He laughed. “I would tease that idiot for hours, see how long he could last… well, three hours was his limit.” Mac rolled his eyes. “That asshole wanted me to bring him a piss cup so we could keep going.”  He scoffed. “I finished him off so I could go to bed.”

Charlie laughed. “What was _your_ limit?”

“If Dennis were here, _may he rest in pieces_ , he would say it was three days.” Charlie gawked. Mac held his index finger in the air. “I do not count that because the acts were not consecutive enough to be considered a single event.” Charlie bore into him with a questioning look. Mac rolled his shoulders back, a sudden anger huffing from his nose, as if it just happened yesterday. “I thought it would be fun to try to incorporate the cards from Chardee Macdennis. _Maybe it’ll help me memorize the trivia and puzzles_.” Mac stared right at Charlie. “That asshole pulled _emotional battery!_ ”

“What?” Charlie’s eyes popped.

“Yeah, and I had shuffled them, too!” Mac threw his arm up. “And I was so _goddamn_ determined to be a badassabout it!”

Charlie started cackling. “He emotionally battered you while he teased you? That sounds horrible!” Charlie could barely control his laughter. “What a horrible idea!”   _These fucking idiots…._

Mac just shrugged because he knew there was no way to defend himself. Not every experiment had positive results. He waited for Charlie to control his snickers. “My real one was fourteen hours.”

Charlie stared at him wide-eyed. “Wow.” He couldn't imagine having sex for that long. “What’d you do for fourteen hours?”

“Well, we had a shift,” Mac began with his shoulders high, not quite controlling the pride he felt building up inside. “So we would just pick up where we left off every 20 to 30 minutes.” Mac gestured with his wine glass, spilling a little over the side. “We kept meeting in the office and he'd jerk me off a little bit and then make me get back to work.” His smile turned into tightened lips. “Then he threatened to kick me out of the apartment if I finished myself off without his permission.”

Charlie snorted. “And it _worked?!_ ”

Mac nodded begrudgingly. “Yeah.”

Charlie shook his head, bewildered. “Why did you put up with that shit?”

Mac relaxed in his seat and grinned as his mind wandered back to the Old Days. “Oh, I got my revenge.” In his mind’s eye, he saw Dennis open-mouth kissing his boots. He saw himself pinning Dennis in a half-nelson and jerking him off. Mac remembered fucking him into the wall like a jackhammer and then smearing his come all over Dennis’ face, calling him a dirty fuck toy. “Things went a little differently when Mac was in charge.”

“Oh my god,” Charlie groaned. He slid his fingers through his hair, forgetting that he had gel in it. They sat for a few moments, relishing in the calming waters they waded. Charlie broke the silence first. “My favorites were the accidental ones.” He grinned.

“No duh, you dipshit!” Mac chuckled. “You started randomly showing up at our apartment in the middle of the night!”

“I didn't wanna risk missing out.” Charlie sank in his shoulders. “If you guys were gonna do it, then _I_ wanted to do it.”

“You never _did_ anything, anyway” Mac threw his arms out wide. “You just whacked off in the corner.”

“I was still participating in my own way!”

Mac rolled his eyes.

Charlie huffed. “Dude, you knew I wasn't ready for that.” Mac nodded and mumbled out a few ‘I know’s’. Charlie’s mind flashed images of those nights, of Mac and Dennis’ bodies against each other. “You guys just made it look so easy.”

Mac sighed. “It wasn't, dude. Nothing about that was easy.” This past was distant enough for him to see the pain without feeling it, but close enough that he didn't want to linger for too long.

Charlie slid his hand across the table, reaching for Mac’s. “I’m sorry, man.”

Mac brought his hand forward and interlaced his fingers with Charlie’s. “I loved it, but we drove ourselves crazy, dude.” Mac looked to the man across from him and a soothing peace settled over his muscles. His body sunk into his chair. “I’m so glad you were there for some of it.”

“I’m your best friend, man.” Charlie squeezed the other man’s hand. “I got your back.”

“Thanks.” Mac’s gaze fell to the table. Once the last bits of anxiety emptied out of his stomach, he reached for his glass of wine. He looked up to Charlie, who was still watching him with a smile on his face. “Is this why you forgot your wallet?” Mac tilted his head. “Did you think I was going to leave you here because you brought this up?”

Charlie chuckled. “Yeah.”

Mac nodded with a smile of his own. “You have killer tactics, my friend.”

“Thank you,” Charlie bowed his head. “I appreciate your appreciation of my skills.”

Mac smiled. “So, now what?” Mac started searching his own mind for any modicum of answers.

“Dude, I don’t know, but we've got this,” Charlie assured Mac. “I mean, shit. We've wanted to kill ourselves before and found a way to move past that. I think we can handle this thing we got goin’ on.”

Mac laughed. “Fuck, I hope you’re right.”

They settled into a comfortable quiet, their minds releasing all those years of secrets from the barriers they'd built. They sipped their wine and listened to the restaurant’s pianist. They watched each other breathe. Their food arrived, as did their bottle of white. Neither of them acknowledged the server, just stared at each other in both peace and bewilderment.

“Dennis is going to be so jealous when he finds out,” Mac chimed and grabbed his fork.

“About what?”

Mac stared at him as if the answer was obvious. “About me and you.”

“Really?” Charlie hadn't pegged Dennis for the jealous type, considering his own proclivities. He stared at his plate of spaghetti, disappointed in the quantity of meatballs.

“Yeah, he’s been wanting to bang you for forever,” Mac said with a wave of his hand.

“ _Me?_ ” Charlie eyed Mac and pulled his chin to his neck. “ _Really?_ ”

“Yeah, dude.” Mac pushed at the food on his plate. “He would go on and on about what we were gonna do when you finally joined.” He groaned. “Some of that shit was pretty _fucked up_.”

Charlie shook his head. “You know what? _Fuck_ that asshole. He left us.” He sighed.  “May he rest in goddamn pieces.”

“May he rest in goddamn pieces,” Mac repeated.

They began to eat their food quietly, but a sadness had fallen over them. Dennis. Dennis had left them and they didn't know if he was ever coming back. They understood _why_ Dennis left. They _got_ it. But knowing didn't make his absence _that_ much easier to handle. He barely called or texted. Just sporadic updates to let them know he was alive. Talking about Boys’ Night without him… It was painful that he couldn't share in the relief that they were feeling. He was the one who had found them ‘permission’. He had given them the words that dulled the anxiety in their skin. True, Charlie had called him on his shit, but he had to in the beginning. He had to know that there was an ‘out.’ He had to see the reality before comfortably slipping into the fantasy.

Even under the cloud of sadness, Mac felt light, like a strong wind was cycling through his lungs and expanding his chest cavity. The empty, hidden spaces in his gut were filling in and supporting this newness. A solid foundation for a solid future. Already it felt so simple, so easy to talk about this big, torturous thing they had felt together. He and Charlie were finding a way to move on from all the shame they had drowned in. They were finding a new life beyond their past mistakes.

They didn't want to stick around for dessert or coffee. There was too much that needed to be said behind closed doors. When the check _finally_ arrived, Mac pulled out his wallet. “$171.15” He cringed, but Charlie beat him to the punch. He pulled a couple of (Frank’s) hundreds from his pocket and put it on the table.

Mac shook his head. “All of this for one conversation?”

“Well, yeah,” Charlie answered.

“Am I really _that_ bad?” Mac wondered aloud.

Charlie just let out a groan and stood from his chair. He reach his hand out for Mac to follow.

\---

As soon as they got back to the apartment, Mac was all over Charlie. He kissed his lips and neck. All the wine and all the talk had heated him up. He guided the other man towards the couch, and pushed him down on it. He straddled Charlie’s lap and started unbuttoning his shirt.

Charlie snickered and kicked his shoes off, thankful to free his feet from their confines. Dressing up had its downsides. “Dude, we were supposed to watch a movie. I had this whole night planned.” Mac licked his clavicle and Charlie moaned. “Phase Four involved slowly seducing you out here and then--” He gasped from Mac’s efforts. “--we were going to make sweet, passionate love in the bedroom.”

Mac grinned into Charlie’s skin, his hands tight on Charlie’s waist. “And I told you that I was going to fuck the shit outta you.”

Charlie’s stomach jumped and he let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, you're right.” He cupped the back of Mac's head and sank into the feeling of his tongue pressing into his muscles, sending shivers through him.

Mac pulled back. “Dennis is going to be so pissed.” He was happy, in a way, to have something that Dennis couldn't. _Get out of my head, Den..._

Charlie felt his heart sink a little. He missed Dennis, too. Sometimes this stuff felt empty without him. _Fucking asshole’s in North Dakota._ “Well, Dennis isn't here,” he said, trying to strengthen his voice to hide the tremor in his gut. He rolled his hips upward, pressing his growing erection into Mac. “It's just me and you, now.” He rested his head on the back of the couch. He gripped Mac’s hips and rolled into him again, revelling in Mac's grunts. “Fuck ‘im.”

Mac steadied himself. Tears welled in his eyes, but he wiped them away before it grew into something more. “Yeah, fuck ‘im.” He tugged his tie loose and yanked his polo over his head. “I've got _Charlie_ ,” he smiled.

Charlie stared at the man above him, slid his hands up and down his chest. He stilled for a moment as the light hit Mac in just the right way. “Is that…” He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. “Is that a _hickey_?”

Mac froze. “Uhh… yeah. I went to the Rainbow a couple nights ago…”

Charlie laughed. He licked the faint bruise with the flat of his tongue. He loved it. He loved seeing Mac be whatever man he wanted to be. But that didn't mean Charlie wouldn't tease him for it. “You really are a slut.”

Mac grinned. “Yeah, I am.”

Charlie dropped his expression. He pulled one hand from Mac’s hips to his flushed cheek. He slid his palm down to his neck and then to his shoulder. “But you always come back to me, right?”

Mac kept his eyes on Charlie, brows pulling together. He took a deep breath in and held it. A ‘yeah’ fell from his lips on the breath out.

“You promise?” Charlie asked with eyebrows raised. He was choking on his words but they had to come out. It all had to come out. He pushed his hips into Mac's again.

Mac nodded and turned his head. He grabbed Charlie’s thumb with his teeth and sucked it into his mouth.

Charlie’s breath caught in his throat as he watched Mac. This wasn't just for fun anymore. This was turning into something different. _And it wasn't one-sided._

Mac pulled back from Charlie’s thumb and kissed the palm of his hand. “I promise, dude.” Mac grabbed the other man’s wrist and planted kisses down his arm. “I'm not leavin’.”

Charlie's chest ached. There was a shared pain of loss that hung between them, heavy enough to hurt but not heavy enough to break them. And it was easier to carry if they did it together. And they could. They could find a new way for themselves.

“Let's go to your room,” Charlie whispered.

Mac nodded and fumbled his way off of Charlie's lap. They undressed completely on their way to the bed.

Mac resumed his position on top of Charlie. He sat upright on his lap while the other man laid down flat. A weight still pressed against his sternum as he looked to Charlie below him. His breaths quickened and his face twisted. “You can't leave me, either, dude,” he huffed out. The tears from earlier returned and Charlie’s eyes welled up, too.

“I'm not. I'm never gonna leave you.” Charlie was making choices and Charlie was choosing Mac. He was going to put in the effort to keep them going, even if the other shit got out of hand--the schemes, the bar, the day-to-day bullshit--there was always a home with Mac.

They didn't move. Just stared at each other and shared the weight. Teetering on the edge of something they were both trying to bury.

Charlie took a few steadying breaths, he rubbed Mac's arm. _Gotta make it fun, again,_ he told himself. _Gotta play._  “I love my little slut.”

Mac coughed out a laugh, wiping the wetness from his cheeks. “Shit, Charlie.” He shook his head.

“What? I do.” Charlie pushed away the thoughts of Dennis and focused on the man that was here, the one that wanted to be here. “You're so good at this shit.” He looked up reverently. “I'm not giving this up for anything.”

Mac rolled his eyes, but still offered a smile. “Dude, no one else wants us. That's why we're stuck with each other.”

Charlie chuckled. “Maybe they don't want me, but everybody wants you.” He reached up and pressed a finger into the hickey on Mac's chest. “Everybody wants a chance with this prime piece of ass.” He punctuated his words with a slap on Mac's bare asscheek. He roughly squeezed it in his hand. Mac groaned. “You just love to give it up, don't you?” Charlie recognized the heat in Mac's eyes, the softness of his face. He had seen him give that look to Dennis _how_ many times over the years?  And now it was directed at Charlie. “Yeah, but I got you, now.” _Fuck you, Dennis._ “I got this little slut all to myself.” He motioned for Mac to lean down. “Just Charlie,” he whispered. He kissed the man above him hard on the mouth, lips pressing and teeth tugging. He grabbed Mac's hardness in his hand and started stroking it lightly around the head.

Mac relaxed his shoulders and reached between them, pulling on Charlie's cock. He slipped his tongue into Charlie’s mouth, tasting wine and faint traces of tomato. He could still smell his cologne, a thin cloud of sleek musk. ‘ _Earthy’_ , Dennis would have called it. But Dennis wasn't here. _He’s not here anymore. I've got Charlie._ He had Charlie before, too, of course. But not like this. Not all skin-to-skin and heart-to-soul. He pulled back from Charlie’s mouth and moved to his neck, kissing and nipping.

“Be careful,” Charlie said. “I don't wanna be all marked up when we tell Frank and Dee.”

Mac softened his lips and moved down. He sucked one of Charlie’s nipples into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. Charlie gasped and his chest heaved upwards, body still sensitive to all these new sensations. Curses fell from his mouth as he pulled the other man closer. Mac continued. Lick. Flick. Suck. He pressed his tongue across Charlie’s chest to the other nipple and repeated.

Charlie’s hand around Mac’s dick was pushed away when the man hovering above him kissed further down his chest. Kissed his stomach. Kissed his hips. Pressed his mouth across all the places that Charlie covered up. He melted in awe as Mac began to lick his cock. Mac could have anyone he wanted, but he was choosing him. _Charlie._ Even after all the bullshit they put each other through.

“That's so perfect, Mac. So good.” He laced his fingers through Mac’s hair and watched him bob up and down, pressing his tongue hard against Charlie’s length. “Shit, just like that.” He groaned and started muttering Mac’s name. He wanted to etch this image into his mind. He had spent a whole lifetime in his head, living out fantasy after fantasy. But this was something real and he didn't want to forget it. 

Mac kept his head down. He wanted to give this to Charlie, even if he was too afraid to feel what Charlie was giving back. It was there underneath the surface. He had seen it. Known it. Recognized it. But in that moment, he felt like his chest was going to burst open and every feeling he'd ever held would gush out like a raging river. He kept to his task. Lick. Flick. Suck. Anything to keep the dam from breeching. Anything to keep Charlie in place. _As if_ **_Charlie_ ** _would ever shut me out for_ **_feeling_ ** _something…._

Charlie knew he wasn't going to last long. The entire day had been building up to all of this. _We’re going to make sweet, passionate love._ Though he hadn't accounted for the empty turn of his gut and Mac’s shared frustration with _that man_ _who may rest in pieces._

“Shit, I’m gonna come--”

Mac pulled off and rose to his knees. He wiped his mouth with one hand and kept the other wrapped around Charlie, stroking him light and fast. “Do it. Come for me,” he whispered. “Come on.”

And Charlie’s hips jerked instinctively as he came through Mac’s fingers. He sank into the release, groaning, his body feeling satisfied. But they were still carrying that heavy weight between them, hanging low from the cords that tied them together.

Mac leaned down and kissed Charlie, soft and slow, trying to will himself to keep it all down. He wiped his hand on the edge of the comforter. He tried so hard to focus, to bury what was absent and appreciate what was present. But he lost the hold on his chest and a knot rose to his throat. “I can’t,” he choked out against Charlie’s mouth. He shook his head. “I can’t!” He rolled his shoulders into the mattress and laid flat on his back.

Charlie felt it, all of it. He could see it on Mac’s face in the dim light coming through the window. He turned to his side and wrapped his arm around Mac’s chest. “It’s okay, man.” He took a deep breath of his own, trying to ease the burn of his muscles. “We've got this.”

Mac started sobbing and everything poured off of him in waves. Charlie held him tight, slowly stuttering into his own crying fit. They rocked against each other for a few minutes, letting it all out and replacing it with deep steady breathing. So many years of silence had been broken and it wasn't complete without Dennis.

But they had each other. They knew there was a way to make it work. There was so much happiness to find between the two of them. Just Mac and Charlie. They could start making choices and finding meaning together. If that asshole didn't want them, maybe they could find a way to stop wanting him, too.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not condone orgasm denial during work hours. (or any of Mac and Dennis' lazily researched experiments)
> 
> Comments keep me going! Even if it's just one word!
> 
> \---hit me up if I'm missing any pertinent tags, please. :)


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